


Cassandra Greatly Approves

by Anjelica_Grey



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Book: Swords and Shields - Varric Tethras, F/M, Prompt Fill, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Wicked Grace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 21:58:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15850185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anjelica_Grey/pseuds/Anjelica_Grey
Summary: Varric lures the stuffy Seeker into lessons on playing Wicked Grace by bribing her with the next installment of Swords & Shields. To his surprise (and delight), he finds she may not be quite as stuffy as she seems.





	Cassandra Greatly Approves

**Author's Note:**

> For the dapromptexchange 2018 Summer Fill-a-Thon, with the following prompt:
>
>> At the big Wicked Grace game, Varric lets on that he’s been teaching Cassandra how to play. So how about we see some of that. Maybe he offers fragments of the next chapter of his book if she wins the hand? (Spoiler alert: he lets her win since she keeps. tipping. her. hand. And he really likes her reaction when she learns a new part of the story.) Flirty/UST banter would be wonderful!

“Ugh, this was a terrible idea. I don’t know why I ever let you talk me into this, dwarf. I should be... out running Cullen’s recruits through their sword drills. Or... or _something_.”

Varric’s low chuckle only increased Cassandra’s irritated frown. “Oh come now, Seeker. You know _exactly_ why you agreed to do this.” His eyes shifted from gray to gold in the flickering light, but the humor that danced in their depths never waned. “Even the Right Hand of the Divine is not immune to my manly charms, after all.”

The Seeker made a disgusted noise and glared; Varric’s grin merely widened. “Well, in fairness, I suppose the bribery _may_ have played a part.” He idly patted a loosely bound manuscript at his elbow, the cover emblazoned with the title, “Swords  & Shields.”

Her poorly feigned disinterest wouldn’t have fooled a toddler; it certainly didn’t fool the author, who smirked at the way her eyes followed his finger as it traced over the title. “Besides, surely it isn’t that much to ask? I’m doing this for your own good, really. You and Curly account for the lion’s share of the stress at Skyhold all by yourselves; you both need to learn to relax.” He thought a moment, and added to himself, “Heh...Curly, the lion’s share. I should write that down.”

Cassandra sat straighter in her chair, if that were possible, and looked haughtily down at the dwarf. “I am not _stressed_. I simply recognize we are in the midst of a _war_ , and should not waste precious time on frivolous nonsense like card games.” With that, she made as if to rise, but his voice caught her.

“Hm, that’s too bad. I was really looking forward to your thoughts on this bit where the Knight-Captain gets interrogated, but I guess if you’re not interested...”

Alarm flashed over the Seeker’s lovely face. _Strong and delicate at the same time,_ Varric thought. _How does she manage that?_

“Interrogated?! But she is _innocent_! Surely they must see that she hasn’t done...” The warrior’s impassioned protest faded into resignation, and she settled in, picking up the cards Varric had dealt her. “Fine. I will humor you. For now.” He hid his smirk behind his cards.

In short order, however, his mirth had faded. It shouldn’t have been surprising given the subterfuge involved in Wicked Grace, but the normally competent Seeker was _terrible_ at it. She asked about the rules in the middle of her turns, her face reflected every change in her cards, and she never even _attempted_ to steal from the discard pile. At this rate, she’d _never_ win. And if she never got a taste of the bribe he’d offered, she probably wouldn’t want to join him for cards again in the future.

For reasons he preferred not to consider, that possibility was terribly depressing.

And so, Varric Tethras, renowned card sharp and feared contender in every serious game of cards in Kirkwall, doubled down on his efforts to cheat...but for the first time, he cheated to _lose_.

He did still do his best to help her learn the game, of course. He’d promised, and she’d have been suspicious of winning too easily, anyway. So it was with a sense of triumph that she lay down her cards at the end of the hand and looked at him expectantly. “Well? I have won, have I not?”

The corner of her full lips crept upward in the tiniest of smug smiles, pulling lightly on the long scar that marked her left cheek. Sweetness and pain, softness and ferocity, side by side. It was, he thought, an apt summary of her whole being, really.

“Varric?”

He blinked away his reverie. “Right, sorry. And yes, indeed you have won. And since I’m a dwarf of my word, I present to you the next installment of Swords & Shields, containing events known to no other soul in Thedas...until now.” She reached out eagerly, and he shook his head. “Uh-uh-uh, Seeker. If I were to hand it to you, you’d just read the whole thing, and I’d lose the rest of my bribe.”

“But you said...”

“I said you’d get to find out the next part of the story. I didn’t say you’d get to _read_ it.”

Cassandra eyed him suspiciously. A lock of her dark, choppy hair fell across her forehead, reminding him uncomfortably of another strong warrior woman he’d cared for. He’d sat back and watched that one fall in love with someone else. He wasn’t sure anymore whether that had been a mistake or a blessing, but nonetheless, he had no intention of repeating it.

As he picked up the manuscript and donned his reading glasses – which made him look _distinguished_ , he told himself, not old – a look of understanding dawned on the Seeker’s face. It was swiftly followed by a complex blend of horror and embarrassment with a dash of illicit thrill. “But... but surely you’re not going to read it out _loud_?”

“And why not? I wrote this series, and you’ve read it; we’re both well-acquainted with the content. What difference should it make if it’s read aloud or silently?”

“But...” Conflicting impulses warred on her face. “But it isn’t... it wouldn’t be _proper_...”

Varric laughed. “Seeker, if you’re looking for _proper_ , you’re reading the wrong books.” She blushed, and he felt his pulse skip. _‘Maker, why this; why now?’_ he wondered for the thousandth time. _‘Some days I can’t even tell if she’s stopped hating me yet, let alone...well.’_ He cut off that thought before it caused him any more trouble. To preempt her from deciding to leave, he cleared his throat and began to read.

“Knight-Captain Nuvera sat in a darkened room, far enough beneath the Viscount’s Keep that she could smell the salt tang of the sea creeping in through the lone barred window. She was dressed in rags, and her shoulders ached from having her wrists bound roughly to the back of her chair, but she spoke with the calm dignity of a duchess. ‘They’ll figure it out eventually, Ewen. Someone will start asking where I’ve gone, and they’ll come straight for you. You might as well give yourself up now; everyone knows your honor isn’t worth the coin it’s bought with.’”

Cassandra’s reticence vanished into the Void, and she sat watching him raptly. She jumped and scowled when the villainous guardsman backhanded his captive, and brightened at her bold reply. Privately, Varric had the idle thought that he should read his work aloud more often; seeing her react so strongly to his words was a unique sort of rush.

“A commotion in the hallway sent a scowl across Ewen’s too-perfect visage, and he stomped out to see what had interrupted his farce of an investigation. Nuvera strained to hear as the sounds of fighting gave way to silence. Finally, the heavy door to her cell opened once again. But this time it wasn’t the covetous guardsman, returning to punish her for having the audacity to refuse his affections. “

The Seeker gasped, eyes wide. “Who was it?” Then, as if realizing she’d spoken the words aloud, she shrank back slightly in her chair, looking sheepish. The normally controlled warrior’s fascination, so deep that she’d spoken without thinking, was the headiest of compliments.

“Instead, she saw a face she’d never expected to see again. ‘Aylen,’ she breathed. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you’d be halfway to Tevinter by now! You shouldn’t have come; the Knight-Commander has grown worse. It isn’t safe for you here!’”

“But the handsome mage surprised her by chuckling. ‘Oh, aye,’ he said in his Starkhaven brogue. ‘She’s grown quite a bit worse; all the way to dead, as a matter of fact. Seems as if you’re a bit behind on current events, my dear.’ As he cut loose her bonds, he filled her in on the Knight-Commander’s demise and the subsequent disbanding of the Circles. ‘So you see, even if there were a templar waiting to take me in, there’s nowhere to take me _to_.’ He winked. ‘Figured without the Circles, I’d best find a templar to guard me _personally_.’”

Varric realized he was twirling his pen, and forced himself to set it down. _‘Thank the Maker my nerves don’t show this much in the finer gambling establishments of Kirkwall, or I’d have been ruined years ago,’_ he thought. But he couldn’t help the way his tension grew as he read through the couple’s daring escape from the secret prison, and the way they evaded pursuers by hiding in a closet. A very small closet. The type of closet that required two full-grown adults to get _really_ friendly in order to fit into it.

 _‘Andraste’s silk pajamas, your palms are sweating like a teenager on his first date. Get it together, Tethras,’_ he scolded himself. And with a deep breath, he began to read the smutty bits.

“The Knight-Captain’s heart was beating a mile a minute; she told herself it was from the fear of capture, but she looked into the mage’s whiskey-bright eyes and knew it was a lie. His gaze flicked to her mouth for only a second, but it was enough. ‘I missed you, Nuvera,’ he said, his body close enough that she could feel his words rumble through his chest. She hesitated. He was a mage. It was against the rules. But if what he’d said about the Circles was true... what did it even matter anymore? ‘I missed you too,’ she whispered, and in the next breath their mouths crashed together in a storm of need.”

Varric glanced up. Cassandra hung on his words, her face rosy as she nibbled absently on her index finger, and he almost forgot to keep reading.

“Ah, where was I? Yes, okay, right.” he cleared his throat, thanking the Maker Cole wasn’t anywhere nearby; he definitely didn’t need the kid reading his mind at the moment. “Aylen’s strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her tight against his chest. So many of the mages had been pale, frail things... but in this, like in most respects, he was different. The Knight-Captain – _‘...or whatever I am now, if the Order has failed,’_ she thought – gave up the struggle, and melted against her forbidden beloved.” With great effort, the dwarf forced himself not to grin at the Seeker’s dreamy sigh.

He swallowed, trying to soothe his dry and nervous throat, and then read on. “’Oh lass,’ he growled softly against her ear, as his hands roamed her body, ‘You can’t imagine how many times I’ve dreamed of holding you like this again.’ There was no reply; she was far too busy reacquainting herself with his scent, his taste, the feel of his skin as she nibbled her way down his jawline to that spot on his neck that always used to make him crazy. Some things never changed, it turned out. ‘Please, love,’ he gasped. ‘This isn’t where I planned this to happen, but I need you so much... please.’”

This time, when the author looked to his audience of one, her sable eyes trapped him. “Please,” he repeated, and she colored further but, to his delighted surprise, she didn’t look away. Not even when he read the bit about Nuvera bracing her feet against one set of shelves and her back against the other, so her lover could bury himself within her body at last.

By the time the scene was over, both human and dwarf were breathless and flushed. The tension was unbearably thick, and Varric actually jumped when the Seeker’s purring voice broke the silence. “Well. Thank you for the lesson.” It took him a moment to figure out she was talking about Wicked Grace, and then he nodded. Before he could speak, she gave him a surprisingly coy look though her long, soot-dark lashes, and added, “I find myself most... satisfied... with the arrangement. Shall we plan another meeting soon?”

The dwarf’s heart lifted along with the corner of his mouth. “Yes, Seeker, I do believe we should.”

**Author's Note:**

> I hadn't written Varric x Cass before, but they are amazingly fun. Now I may be hooked, lol.


End file.
